


Salt and Stone

by Aithilin



Series: Salt and Stone [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, merfolk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: There are very few people in Altissia who know about the Merfolk who live beneath the waters of the city, and fewer still who know that the city was not really designed for humans. Nyx is just the latest recruit to the guard.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, started over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/).

He had been in the city for a week before anything unusual happened. A week of exploring the labyrinthine city and its canals while he settled into the little apartment that was too close to the water for his tastes. Of catching boats and learning the sneaky little alleys and steps and the ways between the tightly packed buildings to get to his new job. Nyx had a week of learning that when the tide came in, the little steps from his door into the canal would be flooded, and only those steps if he was lucky. Of settling into a regular shift at the Maagho, and learning that he hadn’t been recruited for just his talents behind the bar or managing tables full of tourists. 

Nyx had a week of learning just why Weskham Armaugh had recruited him on the reputation of his discretion and abilities with a knife. 

“What the hell is that?”

Sometimes the discretion failed when faced with a creature of myth. A creature that was looking more indignant the longer he stared at it. He had been a hunter in Galahd, mostly. There was Libertus’ bar that he helped out at, but he spent more time out in the forests and on the farms, or clearing out the tourist-heavy beaches when they had cleared for the night. He had heard all the old stories of sea-dwelling creatures and sirens that haunted the island nation. 

He just never expected to actually see one. Or that it would so casually pull itself up from the waves to look him over before offering a smile to his co-worker.

“It’s rude to stare, Ulric,” Ignis’ admonishment came as the man crouched at the water’s edge with a plate. “I’m sorry, your highness. He wasn’t warned.”

“Highness?”

“Iggy, don’t call me that,” the creature pulled itself up on the deck of the Maagho, balanced on the lip that extended just past the decorative low fencing. Easily settling on the solid, buoyant wooden planks supported and steadied by interlocking pillars just below the surface. “What did you make tonight?”

“A new mix of spices to try, if you don’t mind,” Ignis handed over the plate of food he had prepared and covered as the bar had closed. He indicated Nyx with a gesture as he stood and straightened again, as he smiled to the creature; “This is Nyx Ulric. Weskham thought it prudent to bring in a former hunter. Nyx, this is Prince Noctis.”

“Just Noctis,” the creature said— picking at the salmon fillet Ignis had handed him; pushing the minimal garnishes off to the side of the plate— eyes moving over Nyx. 

Nyx had a week in Altissia so far. A week of admiring the stone and architecture that would never be rivalled in Galahd. A week of seeing fresh flowers mysteriously appear in delicate, decorative baskets and planters hooked over the wrought iron railings along the canal that lined the narrow walkway he took to the main thoroughfare. A week of charming his way onto shared gondolas and merchant boats to get to where he needed to be without the hassle of navigating the streets and steps and alleys. A week of getting used to the water and damp and cold stone that felt so much more welcoming than he expected, once he had an understanding (and a map) of the city. He had faced a week of navigating through crowds of tourists come to see walls of water and marvels of engineering, of getting used to the steady splash and waves and flow of the strange city he had moved to because he had an offer and a thirst for adventure. 

He just assumed all the inhabitants lived as he did: on the more solid stone built just above the waves. 

“Hi,” Nyx said, “can I get an explanation?”

“Ooh, can I do the honours?” The second creature pulled itself up next to the first— to Noctis— with a grin, taking the plate; “Hi, I’m Prompto.”

“These are our resident Mer,” Ignis started, guiding Nyx back to the relative shelter of the Maagho’s tiny kitchen. The little space with taller counters and a simple stove and grill, still open to the eyes of the customers, but at least separated from where the creatures seemed capable of getting to. “I’m sure you’ve heard their kind called other things? Sirens seems the most common outside of Old Lucis.”

“Yeah, there were some stories in Galahd. They aren’t daemons?”

“Hey!” It was Noctis who called out on that comment. And Nyx glanced over the counter to see the second creature— the new one; all blond and golden scales and freckles— ribbing at Noctis with a grin. 

Ignis smirked, pouring a drink for them both; “Brats, yes. Daemons, no. Noctis is the prince of his people, residing in Altissia for safety. Prompto has been his companion for years. And there is Gladiolus, his guard, lurking about somewhere.”

“You said I wasn’t warned.”

“You clearly weren’t,” a drink was pressed into his hand, and Nyx took a deep breath before downing it. Ignis continued; “Weskham has been a guardian for them here for some years—”

“Decades,” Noct interjected, and Ignis nodded. 

“Decades, yes. And he has recruited those he feels trustworthy to keep the prince safe.”

“Safe, right,” Nyx looked over the counter at the creatures. Saw the prince, Noctis, looking him over with critical eyes. Critical blue eyes hidden beneath dripping dark hair, with a midnight-blue tail half in the calm waters of the quiet market, the dim, calm light the Maagho was known for shimmering across ripples and scales. “I’m going to need a bit with this.”

A knowing nod from Ignis, “Take your time. I can lend you any notes I’ve taken in my own years of service.”

Nyx could wrap his head around monsters and beasts and daemons. He could understand the monstrosities that came out in the depths of night to haunt and hurt and terrorise the common people. He could understand the beasts and apex predators defending territory and raiding the easy pickings of gardens and farms and livestock. Hell, he could even understand that the myths that had been spread around the world had to have come from somewhere. “Right. Yeah. Definitely going to need to process this.”

But he had come to Altissia with the intent on giving up the violence of hunts and the strangeness of the creatures he had encountered. He had thought the offer he was granted was just a simple little job in a bar to build up skills under the expertise of a veteran. He had come to a foreign city, a foreign land (loosely speaking, he had yet to explore much more of Accordo than the capital), to get a change of air and scenery and life. He didn’t expect to end his week meeting a sentient creature that he had only ever heard of when he was trawling the coastal pubs and inns for rumours and stories. He certainly didn’t expect that same creature— one that he had heard lured sailors to their deaths, that dragged good men down into the ocean dark— looking back at him from under a messy mop of dark hair with the most unimpressed expression Nyx had ever come across. 

When he started his trip home, watching the creatures slip into the water as the gondola he called arrived, Nyx was in a daze. Between the strangeness of this revelation and the strangeness of the city, he could almost believe that he had stepped into a dream. The lights of the city were all soft glows, even in the busy centres alive with tourists. Before that night, he had been taking time after his shifts to explore, to see the sights as the city seemed to think they were meant to be seen— under candlelight, moonlight, and with the shimmer of both reflected in the canals. 

One of the stranger things about the city was that the canals were a necessity, rather than just a feature. Most of the city was set up in blocks— simple patterns of grids and squares— separated by the wider canals. The narrow ones, the ones that could lift boats up through systems of locks to get to the more ornate spaces of the city, to the tops of the waterfalls that tourists travelled from across Eos to see, were the ones that were superfluous to the everyday life of most citizens. The blood of the city ran through the wide canals and into the open marinas that pulsed with the ebbs and flows of tides.

Nyx remembered the ferry ride into the city itself, the impressive sight the statues lining the first set of locks made— like stone guardian angels watching over the passage. He remembered the majesty of the city rising before him after such a long journey from his little hometown and the far less impressive coastal town where the ferry had started. He remembered the wonder of the others with him, the words of marvel that floated around him as he watched the details of the strange new world suddenly open up into a marina and floating plaza. 

He remembered the first time he stepped into the little apartment he would finally settle on after two days of searching, and smiling as the water lapped at the steps just outside his door. The wealthy lived well above the water line, he knew that. They were the ones who had bright curtains and slatted shutters— rather than the heavy boards secured on Nyx’s window. But he liked the charm of stepping out to see the water there, and knowing that if he ended up buying a boat to make his way around the city, there was plenty of space for it just outside his door. 

At night, the shining fairy glow of the city was almost it’s own kind of welcomed magic. The music and the noise of citizens and tourists alike drifting from unseen sources, carried on boats and breezes and over the water like the siren’s call Nyx had heard so much about from those warning him away from the bustling, elegant cities so foreign to Galahd’s quiet and calm. At night, he wanted to explore and seek out that source of life that was drawing upwards to the stores and restaurants and plazas. In the morning, the city was a calm, peace. 

The weirdness of the night before, no matter how much he tried to mull it over and analyse it, was lost once he felt the cool breezes carried by the waters. He could feel the itch of fresh, clean, salted air just outside; cracks of warmer, natural light breaking through the dark of his little apartment buried so deep beneath the more lively paths and thoroughfares. The crisper air cleared his head, he could take the strangeness of his life in stride if he just had a moment to relax. 

“Holy fuck,” Nyx had not been ready to see a strange creature sitting on those steps, reaching for the little flowers spilling from the side of the basket some public servant had painstakingly placed. He did not expect to open his door to let in the fresh air, only to see those bright blue eyes looking at him. “What the hell?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Nyx wanted to ask the creature what he was doing here, what he was thinking, being out in the open. He wanted to demand some sort of explanation for the strangeness, for the boldness. Instead he ran a hand over his eyes and went to his tiny kitchen to get his coffee. “Noctis, right?”

“Right.”

“Do I want to know why you’re here?”

“Probably not.”

Nyx did not have an apartment that was easy to get to. It was off the main waterways, and down a handful of narrow alleys. He had to walk the narrow paths and climb two sets of stairs to get to any part of the city that seemed lively or well maintained. He supposed a creature that lived in the water would have an easier time navigating the place than he would. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Sometimes,” Noctis was settled a little bit higher on the steps, closer to the landing where he could peek into the doorway if he leaned back. “Feeling any better then?”

“Is that why you came here? To check on me? I think I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be, I sleep around here. It’s a coincidence.”

Nyx settled on the landing outside the door, a mug in each hand. “So you just sleep around here and decided to say hello?”

“Basically,” Nyx almost smiled as the creature sniffed the liquid in the offered mug before taking a sip. 

In the light of the morning, with the water shimmering and the stone walls rising around them like a shelter, Nyx could get a proper look at the creature now. He could see the way he looked like a boy— all wide eyes and messy hair and scrawny limbs. He could see the strangeness of the tail properly, with scales so blue they were almost black, with delicate fins drifting in the water lapping at the stone. Everything cold and dark and damp, and strangely alluring and innocent to his eyes. There was no sense of monstrosity or revulsion at the alien nature of the creature, no threat or menace that he knew from his years tracking and hunting just to bring food in. 

There was something almost sweet in the way the creature— Noctis, he reminded himself— took in the sight of him at the same time. 

He could only offer a smirk, “Like what you see?”

“Do you?”

“Well, you’re not hideous.”

He smiled at the little snort that earned him, the way Noctis hid his smile behind the mug of coffee in a very familiar, very human gesture. “So you’re a prince.”

“Yes.”

“And Weskham is your…?”

“Guardian? I think. He’s friends with my father.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Wesky’s old.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“I tell him that all the time,” Noctis smiled; “That’s why he got you.”

“What’s wrong with Ignis?”

“Nothing.”

“But?”

“You’ll have to ask Wesky that.”

“Right,” Nyx leaned back against the wall, looked up to the shuttered windows around them. He supposed if they were quiet, there was no reason for anyone else to take an interest. Altissia really seemed like everything happened at night, rather than during the day. Life seemed to start around the city well past noon, when the tourists were starting to look for more places to spend their money. “Didn’t think I’d be talking to a siren when I left home.”

“Is there any more coffee?”

“I have the feeling that Ignis will kill me if he find out I’m giving you coffee.”

“He drinks coffee the way most of your kind drinks water.” 

Nyx chuckled and downed the rest of what was in his mug, getting up and taking the second from Noctis. “I need to do stuff today, come back tomorrow and I’ll make another mug then.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was something addictive about the night life in Altissia, Nyx decided. Aside from the shimmer and shine of the lights against the polished or painted stone of the city levels, the city was just more alive when the sun finally set. It was so different from what he was used to in Galahd, where even the larger cities— all crowded up along the coasts, protected by their bright lights against the dark and daemons— seemed to have a curfew after dark. But Altissia seemed to just revel in the darkness. 

Between the theatres and restaurants, the arena and clubs, Nyx had found himself wandering on the few nights he had off from his work at the Maagho. He watched the excitement of the tourists travelling the Imperial provinces for the first time, marvelling at the depth the layers of the city presented. There were lovers strolling beneath the warm lights and next to the shimmering waters, sharing seats and kisses on the gondolas as the ripples shattered the reflection of stars and lanterns alike. There were excited young men and soldiers on leave— the volunteers not yet recruited to the Magitek ranks, or on leave granted from desk and guard duties from the posts in the provinces— beelining between bars and the arena, too drunk and broke to afford the faster gondolas. 

It was in his nighttime wanderings that Nyx learnt most of the city. He learnt the way the canals were the faster method of travel, but there were paths and bridges and narrow alleys that could take him anywhere he needed to be. So long as he had the patience for the walk. On these nights off, he afforded himself the time to get lost in the twisting alleys; to admire the way the lights bathed the stone in warm, flickering glows. He could admire the strange, soft, symphonic music that overflowed into the plazas and parks, dulled only by the ebb and flow of chatter and laughter from the rivers of people travelling from one attraction to the next. During the day, the silver of the city was all business and shopping, and the promising preparations for the parties at night. 

After dark, Altissia was awash in gold and reds and the shimmering magic of a province that had prospered under the Empire. 

Nyx still preferred the lower levels of the city itself; down by the canal thoroughfares where he could settle under the lights in a quiet corner, and watch the madness of the tourists from afar. 

Which is what he intended to do, once he had found a new stall of street food and started to wander with his dinner down to the levels of the deeper waters. The lower he went, the easier it was to navigate. The tourists stayed in the brighter layers of the city, letting themselves be charmed by the music and food and promise of it. Only the local let themselves feel safe in the dark, where the waters barely rippled. 

As he settled in a small alcove park, on a bench by the water and beneath one of the perfectly manicured trees he was certain could not be healthy, Nyx found another reason why he was coming to enjoy the city more than he had thought. 

“Shouldn’t you be off annoying Ignis?” 

Noctis was a bold creature, Nyx had discovered. With a good sense of when there was no direct threat of being seen, and with a habit of wandering the city as well. He couldn’t help but smile as Noctis folded his arms on the stone banks of the canal and flicked that strange tail behind him. “He was busy. The Maagho is still open to customers.”

“So I’m your second choice?”

“Fourth. Prompto was sleeping and Gladio had decided to take his sister up to the temple waters to work off some of her energy,” a little smile still graced the creatures lips; “but you’re my second choice for human.”

“I’m flattered.”

“So you should be. What are you eating?”

“Something tremendously disappointing,” Nyx offered the little paper bowl to Noctis; “It was supposed to be something from my hometown.”

“And it’s not?”

“Same basic recipe, I suppose. But no where near as good.”

He watched as the creature sniffed the little piece of meat he had taken, almost smirking at the reaction to the spices in the marinade. It was almost adorable the way Noctis licked the morsel before popping it into his mouth, nose wrinkling. “It’s not very good.”

Nyx finished off the last of his meal quickly, refusing to let it go to waste. There had been so little on offer from outside of the usual Altissian, he had wanted to try to find a little bit of home; “What are you up to out here, anyway?”

From his vantage point on the stone, Nyx could see the languid stretch and curl of Noctis’ tail, could see the way the muscles moved, even thought he was supported in place by his hold on the platform. He could see the way the dark scales shimmered just beneath the surface, and the strange mix of colour where scale blended to pale flesh. And he could see Noctis’ eyes on him, watching, analysing. 

Nyx hid his fascination with the strangeness of the creature that Noctis was by cleaning up the remnants of his dinner. Preoccupying his hands and attention with bundling up the used and unused napkins, and finding a bin to throw everything into, rather than let Noctis see his curiosity again. He tried to force the creature into acknowledging some kind of conversation; “Ignis said you usually stayed close to the Maagho.”

“Usually.”

“Then what brings you out here?”

“Boredom. And it’s hardly an isolated spot.”

Nyx looked around for a more familiar cross street or bridge, something that could indicate just where he had let himself wander to. The festive air of the city levels above had not even begun to dim as the night went on. There was a covered bridge down the canal a few blocks, the familiar banners pointing out the way home. If he had a boat, it would be faster, but as it was, he would be backtracking up to the main plaza and crossing a handful of tourist traps before he could reach the quiet of his own steps. But he could see the tower of stone apartments not far away; the better maintained levels for the wealthy built atop his own little hole in the wall. 

“I suppose not,” really, for all its size, Altissia was tightly packed; “And I’m guessing you’ll be at my door before me?”

“Unless you swim?”

“Swim?”

“It’s not that difficult a concept.”

“Pretty sure that’s not allowed, prince.”

“Only if you’re caught.”

Ignis had told him that Noctis was usually quiet, withdrawn. That it took him ages to open up to anyone. That the prince preferred to keep to himself, and rarely strayed from some very well-established habits. That Noctis preferred to visit the Maagho, the doorsteps of the humans he trusted, and a few choice spots within the depths below the city. 

Nyx had also been told that Noctis could be a little shit when he wanted to be. And apparently this night was one of those indulgences. 

He was in the water before he registered that the creature had pulled him off the stone plaza. 

There was too much noise for the sound of someone slipping into the darkened waters to raise any alarm. There were too many tourists with their eyes filled with lights and drinks and the stories of water goddesses milling about for anyone to notice a single person fall into the canal well below them. There were no passing boats, and the gondolas were all focused on collecting new fares from the levels above. 

When Nyx surfaced with a gasp, he didn’t expect to be so far away from the safety of the roads. 

He could only glare at the grinning creature before him. Could only tread water as he struggled to get his bearings in this new perspective. He could only glare as Noctis grabbed his arm and asked, “How long can you hold your breath?”

That was all the warning he got before he was pulled under again. If the city above was a maze with its layers and levels and winding steps and streets, the city below the surface of the water was a forest of stone pillars and arches and platforms. There were centuries of waterlogged buildings beneath the water, a separate layer of abandoned stone ruin reduced to supporting the city above that was pressing down on the solid earth beneath the sea, too far down to see where the pillars were settled. There were pillars and cross beams and platforms all grafted on to the original structures of carved stone— the metal coated and maintained and reinforced with the latest feats of Niflheim engineering on loan to the Altissian architects. 

But Nyx could only think of the burning in his lungs and the power of Noctis’ tail as he was dragged through the stone forest and ruins. 

When Noctis released him again, Nyx realised that he was still close to the surface, that the creature hadn’t dragged him into the depths. When he surfaced, he reached for the nearest solid surface and found the stone steps outside of his door. 

His lungs burned as he tried to catch his breath, and he could only meet Noctis’ smirk with a glare.

“See?” Noctis said; “swimming is faster.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll give you more warning next time.”

“Seriously, I hate you.”

“You’re fine.”

“Not talking to you again. Ever,” Nyx managed to pull himself up the steps until he could lean back against his door. He waited until he could take deep breaths without the burn of salt flooding his senses before he looked at Noctis again. The creature was settled next to him, just a few steps lower and patiently waiting. He groaned at the look in those blue eyes and Noctis’ soft pout. “Fine. Whatever. You almost kill me, but you can still come for coffee.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nyx liked to think that he was somewhat smart. He was generally observant, and quick to figure out puzzles. He knew that plenty of his knowledge was unconventional— he had a working knowledge of weapons and magic from his days hunting, he could identify co-ordinates when they were presented to him, he was fairly decent with cooking and survival skills (at least he wasn’t dead yet), and he knew how to manage the bar when needed (though why Weskham trusted him with that over Ignis was still a mystery). In what little downtime he had that involved exploring the city, he liked to think he was pretty decent at solving the little puzzles and games tucked away in the back of the newspapers— the little word games and tricks and riddles he played through as he sipped some over-priced drink and watched Noct’s shadow in the water. But it had taken an embarrassingly long time to figure out the connection between the ‘Luna’ Weskham and Iggy kept talking about and the Oracle who was due to visit Altissia. 

He knew that the visit was something that happened regularly— once a year, or so. But it was still some big to do, and promoted heavily by both the city bureaucrats and the Niflheim handlers trying to appear magnanimous to the people of Accordo by letting the Oracle out and about. He had known about it well before the banners and posters were strung up around the city— covering the stone motifs and pillars, draped across office building and iron lampposts. He had known about it— technically— before the little sylleblossom sigil if the Tenebrae royal house was in every shop and restaurant window. He had known about the visit before the little bundles of fabric flowers started appearing across the like a welcome.

Not that he had anything against all the fuss and flare of the whole thing, but he didn’t understand why Noctis and his little group had known before the rest of the city did. 

“The Oracle is one of the allies of Noctis’ people,” Ignis had offered one day when Nyx had finally asked about it. When he had run into the other man on the way to the Maagho during one of the very few days it was closed— when the gondolas were told not to bring passengers their way, and the market ships moved to more populated waters. “She had spent time in Altissia in her childhood for her education— the Empire’s insistence— and befriended Noct when they were both young.”

“What? She fall into the canal?”

“Something like that,” Nyx couldn’t miss the small smile that brought to Iggy’s features. The amusement of some shared memory he wasn’t a part of. “In any case, when she visits each year, she tends to bring flowers for Noct.”

He had seen Noct skirting through the canals with Prompto, collecting lost or damaged or abandoned fabric flowers that had found their way into the water after leaving the hands of careless tourists. He had no idea what the creature did with them, but he seemed to like the little creations well enough— whatever happy memory they had brought with them. Nyx had almost been tempted to buy one of the damned bouquets done up for tourists for Noct, so he didn’t need to collect the discarded ones. 

“So how do you know about her visit before anyone else in the city?”

“It’s our job to know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“That’s your own fault, Ulric,” Ignis led the way down the narrow path to the bar— the quiet, nearly invisible route that twisted between a narrow alley that cut the yellow building above the Maagho in half. The steps beneath the far archway curled down to the darker corner of the bar itself, generally hidden from the half-drunk patrons by the stone arches that supported the building above and anchored the bar below. On days like today, Nyx could almost appreciate the quiet of the place. He could see the reason for the privacy, the intimacy despite the abundance of warm lights. He could see the charm in the stone arches and treated woods of the platforms. The buildings around them, the few apartments which faced the small culinary market, were at too steep an angle to see into the darkened platform that was the bar— too distant to see much beneath the stone arches or the movement within. At first, Nyx had thought the way the bar was placed— the way the platform was secluded and anchored so deep beneath the stores above— was a way to keep the mystique of it alive when the crowds started to mill about.

He could understand, on these quiet, chore-focused days, why the Maagho was seemed so much more private despite the constant press of regulars and tourists at every available table. He could respect the discretion that some of the better standing citizens requested and sought out through the quiet setting and Weskham’s indifference to the dealings of others.

Now, Nyx supposed the privacy was meant to shield the way Noct and his friends seemed intent on trying to raid the place after closing.

“So how, exactly, did you get roped into this?” Nyx asked once he had set his bag down at the bar and started looking for the books of inventory and orders Weskham stored. There was an office somewhere in the city, Nyx knew, where the accounts were tallied and the actual profits of a business were managed. But down on the empty platform that seemed much larger than it was, only the basics were kept close at hand. 

“I volunteered,” Ignis said, moving to the grill half-hidden by the decorative arches. He started a pot of coffee for them, filling the ancient and usually untouched maker on the narrow workspace next to the little stove and oven set-up Weskham had invested in to serve his minimal dishes. Nyx didn’t know where the fish Ignis was now preparing had come from when he first spotted it in one of the little fridges beneath the counters the other night, but Ignis had only acknowledged it now that they were set to take the morning to do more than just prepare for an evening service. “I’ve been working with Weskham for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Longer than you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Nyx watched the water ripple, trying to discern if it was from the platform or the creatures that seemed to mill about it.

“Has he explained anything in more depth to you?”

“Just that we’re minding his royal fishy highness while he minds some sort of crystal around here.”

Ignis had plenty of tells when he was annoyed— Nyx saw them on an almost nightly basis. There was the way his shoulders tensed, the way he flexed his jaw to bite back a response, a coldness to his eye… Nyx was getting familiar with them all now. He had stopped bothering to hide his smirk as Ignis replied; “Boiled down to its simplest terms, yes, that is our mission.”

“But?”

“But I look after Noctis, you serve drinks.”

“Right.”

There was a soft splash as Ignis tossed one of the smaller fillets into the water, the rest settled on the grill. 

Nyx could say that he had a productive time getting settled into the new city. When he sent messages and emails back to his mother and sister and friends, he told them about navigating the city and the work at the bar. He sent along pictures of the canals and grandiose buildings with their detailed facades when asked. He sent pictures of his apartment to his mother (and told her about the way the waters practically lapped at his door when the tide was in), and of the statues to his sister. He detailed the arena and the fights and excitement of the nightlife to Libertus, while asking Crowe if he should be picking up the books on magic he had found in plenty of shop windows between antique teacups and commemorative knickknacks from previous Oracle visits. He didn’t tell them about the creature that spent most mornings on his doorstep with him, all bright eyes and smiles and midnight dark tale draped across pale stone steps. 

He didn’t tell them much about Ignis or Weskham beyond the work elements and the details of the bar. He didn’t explain that he had been recruited for more than just his ability to handle drunks and tend to the busiest hours when the owner needed a rest. He didn’t tell them about Noctis and his curiosity, or how he seemed content to doze off almost anywhere. He didn’t mention the little ray of solid sunshine that was Prompto, all gold scales and freckles and bright smiles— constantly asking him questions and begging to see his photos of Galahd or the city, or anything else he happened to still have stored on his phone. He didn’t mention Gladiolus, who seemed content to try staring him down when Noct got ‘too close’ for his comfort, but warmed up after Ignis mentioned that Nyx used to hunt beasts and daemons in distant lands. 

Sending that sort of news back home would have been far too awkward. And Ignis might kill him. Six knew there were plenty of places to dump a body around Altissia, and he had watched the man play with a knife while waiting for things to cook before. 

As it was, he had only recently acknowledged that the Oracle would be in the city at all, and promised to get a picture for his sister if he could. Or at least one of the trinkets already appearing in carts and stands and shops.

Another soft splash and Nyx watched a lightly grilled fillet dip beneath the water and disappear. He saw the hand grabbing it this time when he peered over the edge. He saw the bright blue eyes and familiar smirk. “How do you even know when he’s there?”

“Noctis-sense,” Ignis muttered, setting a seasoned piece on a plate. “He and Prompto strike at the platform when they want something but are too lazy to surface.”

“So this crystal thing—”

“It is the crystal you would have heard about in myths. A source of great power and something of great value to everyone residing on this planet.”

“And it’s entrusted to Noctis?”

“You say that as if you wouldn’t trust him,” he could hear the smile in Ignis’ voice at that, though. Could almost picture the soft little smirk he had seen on the other man plenty of times before. “It’s entrusted to his father. And Noctis simply resides with it.”

“In Altissia.”

“Yes.”

“I thought this legendary crystal was in the ruins of Old Lucis?”

“Yes.”

“Right… Whatever. Is that why the Oracle comes here? To check on some mythical holy relic?”

“Something like that,” Ignis nodded as he finally set tossed the plate of innards into the water to signal that the actual meal was almost ready. 

Nyx peered over into the water again, caught the flash of brighter gold just beneath the surface that announced that Prompto was around. Setting the inventory list he had meant to review aside, he fished out a little package from his bag. He caught the look Ignis gave him and smiled; “Waterproof camera for Prompto. I’m pretty certain he wants to steal my phone to take his own pictures.”

“He’ll like that,” the deeper voice caught Nyx off guard, even as Gladio pulled himself easily onto the steps of the platform where the gondolas usually rested and waited for fares. Despite the fact that the mer had become as much a staple in his life as Noct, Nyx still wasn’t sure what to make of him. “Iggy, his royal pain wants to know if there would be any of Luna’s food this year.”

If not for the smile, Nyx would have thought Ignis was annoyed at the intrusion. The man plated what little was left from his cooking and brought it to Gladio; “He can ask me himself. Any news about the visit itself?”

“None that I’m aware of. I was about to ask you.”

“Nothing here, I’m afraid. The itinerary can be assumed to be traditional,” Ignis sighed, hands on his hips as Noct surfaced and settled next to Gladio, pouting as the larger mer held the food out of his reach. “I’m afraid the Nifs are keeping a tighter leash on the Oracle this time.”

“Think she’ll be able to get down here?” Noctis asked, making a face as Gladio took a bite of the meal Iggy had prepared. 

Nyx settled at the edge of the platform, looking for Prompto as the creature skimmed through the water in flashes of gold scales and frills; “Not likely.”

“What would you know about it?” Noct frowned, giving up on salvaging any food from Gladio. 

“I’ve seen the Empire, little prince,” Nyx grinned. “If they’re keeping an eye on her, she’s not sneaking off anywhere.”

“You don’t know Luna.”

“You don’t know the Empire. And it looks like the guard is being ramped up around every major attraction in the city already. If she gets anywhere without a guard following, I’d be very impressed.”

Ignis sighed, arms crossing as he considered the problem. There was no way to deny that the presence of armed guards had increased around the stately building on the upper levels, around the Leville’s entrances at every side, and at every major point of the city that honoured the Six. Nyx had seen their kind before in other cities across the provinces— particularly in the unruly cities of his own home and in Lestallum where the insistence that the blood of Lucis was alive and well was a point of rebellion against the Empire. They weren’t the front-line MTs that guarded the coastal ruins where the sunken remains of Old Lucis were dragged by sonar and ships, but they still packed a similar punch if provoked. 

“You may only have the temple waters, Noctis. Ulric may be right that Luna won’t be able to make it somewhere private.” Ignis offered something of an apologetic smile to the prince, “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Nyx was glad for the distraction that was Prompto. Glad for the bundle of smiles and determined optimism and familiarity that was Noct’s persisted best friend. He handed over the camera and was entire unsurprised by the absolute joy that it earned him in return. He grinned in response to Prompto’s excitement, to Noct’s rare bright smile as the two let themselves be swept up in the surprise of a gift. When Prompto calmed down enough to actually examine the thing, Nyx showed him how it worked— taking a few shots and showing him how to scroll through to examine his work on the tiny screen. 

“It’s Nif built,” he explained, “So it should be decent for a good while down.”

The smiles as Prompto dragged Noct off into the water to play with the new toy had been worth the lost paycheque.


	4. Chapter 4

From his usual vantage point on the relatively dry stone of the walkways and plazas, Nyx could admit that Noct at least appeared graceful enough in the water. Even as they spent their mornings sharing coffee and Nyx explaining where he had come from and telling stores of his adventures, Noct was essentially a languid, delicate creature sprawled across the steps outside his door. He had plenty of mornings waking up to find Noct dozing in the sunlight and warms like a cat, despite the tale dipping into the water. 

He had plenty of mornings, back against the door and feet in the water, telling Noct about the family and friends left half behind in Galahd— friends and family who had expected him to retire from hunting at home with them, rather than in some distant, half-drowned city. He had mornings where he told Noct— as the prince listened with a ghosting smirk and wide eyes— about hunts in Cavaugh with his old mentor, about hunts across Duscae and Cleigne and Leide, and even the few that had taken him into the snowy wastes of Niflheim. He spent mornings letting his coffee cool in his hands as he listened to Noct talk about his world beneath the city, and the creatures that lurked on his (very) few trips beyond the guarded locks of the bay. 

And when they parted for the day— Nyx to run his errands or prepare for work, and Noct to disappear in to the depths to probably sleep— he took a moment to watch the way Noct moved below the surface until he was out of sight. 

There were pictures on Prompto’s camera that Nyx had looked through of Noct moving in his element. Of the curve and curl and strange appearance of total weightlessness that seemed so impossible without the anchor of a pillar or flooded building to prove a direction. There were pictures of Noct and Gladio apparently training with swords Nyx did not know they had— and were apparently untouched by whatever years they had spent under water. There were pictures of Noct playing with balls of ice formed by the glow between his hands, showing off the magic Nyx had seen a handful of times. There were pictures of the ruins and flooded lower levels of the city, the darkness in the depths, and the strange appearance of the Walls of Water from an entirely different angle. 

When he could steal the camera for a few hours, Nyx had some of the images transfered to his phone. He had liked the ones of Noct looking far more ethereal than he had any right to look, given his usual bad jokes and awkward manners.

But Nyx didn’t realise just how graceful Noct could be until he got in the water with them. 

Ignis had given him an apparatus to help him breathe beneath the water. A lightweight tank and mask he could simply strap on and spend a few moments longer below the surface. 

Weskham had been against the idea. Noct had been thrilled. 

It wasn’t until Nyx was in the water that he could really appreciate just how these creatures moved. 

Noct was grinning as he sped and twisted around the anchoring pillars beneath the Maagho, Prompto chasing close behind. Nyx could feel the power of that tail, those muscles, from where he was just getting used to moving in the water. 

He had always been told that he was quick on his feet— climbing, running, making impossible jumps all his life from childhood games to hunts— but in the water, in the actual ocean of the Accordo bay that was barely managed by the canals and waterways, Nyx felt helpless. Certainly against the way Noct would tug at him to drag him along through the strange structures that propped up the impossible city, to peer in windows submerged by centuries of weight on top of untested earth below. He felt helpless, weightless, as he felt that powerful tail barely brush past him but still send him reeling. 

It was a day off, and sunlight was streaming through the waves above him, when Nyx realised that he thought Noct was beautiful. He used the pillars that supported the buildings that shielded the Maagho to guide himself, to give a weak chase after Noct who flowed and curled, and gripped Prompto’s tale or arms in some ancient game between them. He used the pillars to anchor himself as he watched the prince— smiling, noiseless Noct— move like water personified, rather than some creature of meat and bone that simply lived in the ocean. 

He marvelled at the contrast of Noct’s colouring in his natural state— the way he disappeared in the darkness, barely visible except for the pallor of his skin. At the way what looked like the blue of a midnight starry sky close to the sunlight of the surface was the forbidden blacks of nightmares when Noct rose back to his level in the water, all fanged grins and the power of fairytales. Nothing like the silly, strange prince who napped at his door and asked him about the forests of Galahd and the prairies of Cavaugh. 

And his heart stopped as Noct took his hand and pulled him down into the darkness with a smile as Prompto in his gold and Gladio in his reds lingered up near where Ignis waited patiently for him to surface. 

Nyx imagined the stories he used to hear as he travelled— the creatures like Noctis that appeared in calm oceans and along the coastal ruins in the cursed bays. He remembered listening with only half an ear as sailors and fishermen and Nif deserters and castoffs wove tales of creatures like Noct haunting and hunting in the sunken cities, in the promised submerged ruins of Old Lucis and the dead city of Insomnia that had been lost just over two millennium ago, when it had crumbled from some disaster or another into the sea. He remembered the stories of tipped boats and trapped explorers, and blooded fangs and blades, and the daemons that thrived in the depths no human had explored. 

He remembered scoffing over them as just campfire stories. 

Now he was being pulled into darkness below an impossible city, and he could only feel the powerful movements of Noct’s tale, and see his ghostly skin, and remember that flash of fang. 

At least until he saw the glow. 

Half hidden still well below them, Nyx could see the strange glow of something nestled between the thick and ancient pillars that would arch above the Maagho. He could see the dull pulse of it, sense the beat like a heart through the water— electrifying it with some barrier. Noctis was grinning at him again as he circled them above the strange thing of power before taking Nyx back up to the surface. 

Among all the myths Nyx had encountered in his life, he had never actually believed the Lucian Crystal was real. 

He would never forget the look of Noct in that strange light. 

He decided later, when he was alone in his apartment and still researching all he could about the fabled crystal, that it had taken an embarrassingly long time to realise that he had a crush on Noctis.


	5. Chapter 5

Nyx had taken to just setting the second mug out in the morning. He still wasn’t sure why Noct had taken to drinking coffee, but he had, and Nyx could appreciate the company as he sat at the edge of the stone pathway with his feet in the water most mornings. Noct tended to circle first, to move just beneath the surface of the water for a few turns through the canal before he pulled himself up to the steps and settled in for the morning routine. Most days, it was that simple, the second mug was out and the prince would arrive with a grin and an air of expectations, tail curling on the steps he dripped on the stone. 

“How do you even know what time it is?” Nyx asked one morning— up early to enjoy a day off before the crowds of tourists flocking from across Accordo and the Niflheim territories woke up. With the promise of the Oracle’s visit, people were already flowing into the city with the hope they’ll receive her blessing. Never mind that she would be touring Leide and Duscae and Cleigne and the rest of Accordo before returning to Tenebrae; the people went where she was promised. “You’re never late.”

“I told you I sleep near here,” Noct had taken to sipping the coffee at Nyx’s pace, and to stealing bits of breakfast from whatever he had brought out with him. “I can see the sunlight. And I’m very attuned to the natural tides.”

“Right. You have some sort of clock down there, don’t you?”

“Yes. You need better toppings for your toast.”

“You need to stop stealing my food.”

Altissia was like another world in the dawn. Not that Nyx saw much of it most mornings— but he did like these quiet hours settled on the stoop outside of his small apartment, leaning against the chipping stone where the little pathway ended. With the way the city was layered, the way the buildings were stacked and towering and built around each other like a maze, Nyx tended to never see the actual sunrise. He could watch the light creeping across the water from his doorstep. He could see the barest hint of oranges and reds reflected in the water when he was making his way home most mornings, sleeping too late to miss it on others, and meeting Noct like this regardless of his other habits or schedule. He could see the way the light kissed the top levels of the city, crowning the stately buildings with a shine and gold reflected off the walls of water, while he navigated the colder alleys and plazas to get home. He saw the light twist shadows through the accents of metal and iron across his path, and spread shadows across carved stone and chipping paint. There were mornings where he got home in time to make the morning coffee, and sit with Noct as he watched the water seem to burn around the silly creature. 

He missed mornings in Galahd. When he could sit out on his steps and watch the light move over the trees. When he could watch the night be chased away from empty streets in that strange moment of otherworldly silence between time. As the thick shadows of the forest were broken by the new, golden light seeping in through leaves and branches and across the cold grasses. He missed when he used to sit with a coffee on porch steps, and listen to birds and could feel the solid comfort of familiar land around him. He missed the crisp air and scent of wood and greenery. Of hearing the cracks in the forests as beasts retreated for the day, and of motors start up from his neighbours getting ready to leave for their work now that the roads were safe again. 

In the early light, Altissia was like another world. In any light, Altissia was another world. It smelt of salt and water and so little of the noise was natural. 

Before daylight really set in, the air was cold. The wind carried over the waters and funnelled through the strange buildings until Nyx almost expected to see ice on the steps outside of his door. And while he couldn’t see the light for himself, the reflection of it was enough to cast away the shadows from the night before. Light glared off the walls of waterfalls that surrounded the bay— a mirror to cast the dawn to the reaches missed by the first rays, gleaming off metal accents and polished stones as the tourists stumbled towards hotels and citizens trudged back home. The noise that wasn’t water was always related to people— to doors and shutters closing, to shouts as families mingled together with different schedules, of boats and the ever-present drift of laughter and music from the open garden plazas above (and when the air was right, cheers from the arena).

Nyx missed Galahd. He missed the warmth of it, the way the cold air was crisp instead of freezing most mornings, the way he could watch the colours on the horizon chase away the stars. He missed the humble little roads of his hometown and the cluster of simple buildings separated from the thick forest that protected the mountains he had lived in the shadow of for most of his life. He had missed knowing who his neighbours were and the warmth that small community brought. He missed going to bed just as Selena was getting up, laughing as she greeted him with a chirpy ‘good morning, night owl.’

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Just getting up, actually,” Nyx pushed the rest of the toast over to Noct to pick at, still amused by how the creature seemed to never actually need to be fed, but always managed to get food from him or Iggy anyway. “Why?”

“Did you want to swim?”

That had been another new habit Nyx wasn’t entirely certain of. He had taken to slipping into the water near the bar, close to the steps of his home. Just a few moments to admire the easy movements of his strange companion— the way Noct moved through the water and tried to bring him deeper to show him new things or pieces of salvage that had been collected. There were plenty of places to go swimming with other people, even the temple waters were opened to the public most days, but there was something Nyx preferred to having the canals to himself. Having Noct to himself— and the world Noct wanted to show him. It was almost like when he was a child, exploring the forest and mountains with Libertus: it didn’t matter if he spent most of his adventures twenty feet away from the road or paths or a haven, that little patch of forest and rock was his. 

Noct and the canals were his. 

He was fairly certain that Noct had similar ideas. 

“I suppose a swim is better than most of what I had planned for the day.” Noct’s smile was almost sweet enough to ignore the fangs. And Nyx gathered up the dishes as the creature slipped back beneath the water and disappeared. By the time Nyx stepped back outside, Noct had set a device down on the stone. “Noct… Did you steal from the MTs?”

“They dropped it.”

“What else did they drop?” The device was a small breathing apparatus, something that Nyx had only seen in salvage shops or on Nifs. In the shops, the technology sold for well above anything he had ever been able to squirrel away after necessities; on the Nifs, he had seen the human soldiers using these things when he took hunts along the coasts of Lucis— near the ruins of old Insomnia as the excavations progressed but hunters had been needed to fend off the beasts while the military worked. 

He tried to ignore that little smirk— that little telltale reminder that Noct could generally pick off whomever he wanted if they got too close to his water— and tested the little apparatus before slipping into the water. He felt more than saw Noct’s presence as he adjusted, as he tested the device with a few quick breaths— where ever Noct had actually got it from, it wasn’t damaged. And it would be better than the oxygen tank kept at the bar. Noct must have been satisfied that he wasn’t going to drown, because a hand closed around his and he was pulled deeper. 

The lower levels, the flooded apartments, the supporting beams and pillars and ancient stone work were all familiar now. Nyx knew his way around the waters beneath his apartment, beneath the Maagho, well enough. But Noct was taking him elsewhere. Not far from his block was the bay, the thick stone walls of the city designed to allow the small boats, the gondolas and small things kept for easy movement through into the canals. Nyx had walked these walls before— he had watched the big ferries and the ships carrying tourists and immigrants make their way across the bay— was familiar with the view from above. 

From below it was a different matter. Noct moved quickly, pausing only at the wall a moment to check on Nyx before dragging him out into the open waters. Before pulling him deeper, until the surface was just a shimmer above, and the stretch of darkness below and around him seemed bottomless. He didn’t know how Noct could see, could know where he was going. He didn’t know how, as they moved deeper, further below where most of the fish schooled, Noct didn’t get lost in the blackness. 

Nyx was half convinced they’s come across some new daemon down here. That there was some new creature lurking and waiting for someone as helpless as he was to venture this far. It probably had tentacles and rows of teeth.

There was a moment of panic as Noct released his hand and disappeared into the dark.

A moment later there was light. Not much of one, just a small one, coming closer as Noct returned with a travel light. He cleared out persistent sand, and beamed before clipping the thing on to the collar of Nyx’s t-shirt, clearly proud that the little light had been thought of. The prince tugged on one of Nyx’s braids before swimming off again, stopping a few metres away this time. 

In the new light, Nyx could see that Noct had brought him close to the floor of the bay, deeper than he had ever thought to go before. And while the light did little to let him see much in the distance, Noct was letting him catch up before taking off again, amused by the slower pace now. The sand and clay, Nyx expected, even the stone formations and the ruins from structures that couldn’t stand the same test of time as the rest of the city. He had expected the vegetation and the fish and creatures— harmless, shy things— darting away from him and the light, but barely reacting to Noct. Nyx had expected to see the tangles of seaweed, the columns of strange plants twisting in the current, and the shadow of waves and tides rippling the sands. 

He did not expect the shattered Nif airship, or the wreckage of military boats. Some he recognised as old Nif barges, some carried the Accordo insignia— the shapes and styles dated by decades. But the airship was newer. Nyx could place it within the last ten years, fifteen at a stretch— years when he was wandering the wastes of Cavaugh and Old Lucis on hunts. In the light, he could see Noct dart through a jagged hole that had been ripped through the ship’s side— and he wondered just when this had happened. Something as dramatic as an Imperial ship being shot from the sky would have been worth talking about, even if the news reports never made it far across the Imperial provinces. He also wondered how Altissia was still standing if it had done something like this. One of the smaller islands of Galahd had been levelled when one of the resistance groups managed to bring down a ship like this. 

Following Noct into the wreckage, Nyx tried to prepare himself for whatever the creature wanted to show off. 

Twisted metal, ruined weapons, maybe even the glowing containers of harnessed, trapped elements, were what he was expecting. He didn’t expect to see Prompto stretched across one of the wide benches where MTs would have been seated when the ship was airborne. He hadn’t expected to see the smiling, happy, golden creature that was Prompto stretched out and taking apart containers with his bare hands. Grinning as he pried open a sealed lock box to see what was inside. He waved back as Prompto beckoned him over, as he held up still sealed boxes of masks like the one Nyx was wearing. As he showed off his finds. 

Noct had already settled nearby, digging through the old supplies— things neatly sorted already, with rows of the travel lights clipped to straps and seatbelts. Noct switched a few extras on, startling the fish that had been lurking in the shadows. 

Later, when they were able to talk again, Prompto would explain that they had found the ship a year ago after managing to slip Gladio’s watch. That they had started opening the little boxes where they could, just to see what was inside. They had started bringing things to Weskham and Ignis, who told them to stash some things beneath the city for an emergency— lances, masks, pieces of armour. The things like the lights, the tools, the little supplies meant for survival were stored throughout the city. Noct having been proud of their little salvage job. Prompto just liked to play with the strange mechanics. 

Later, as Nyx asked Iggy about what had happened to bring down a Nif airship that seemed to be supplied to invade the canals, the younger man had just shrugged and said it was before his time. But not to mention it to Weskham.


	6. Chapter 6

There was an archway that overlooked a part of the old city that Nyx had walked over countless times. It was near enough to the stately structures of government and the temple waters. It afforded a decent view of the open waters of the bay, where the strings and garlands of flowers and banners and little superstitious things made the city of water look like it had gardens hidden somewhere in the maze of stone and impossible architecture. He had stepped over the archway, over the old city itself, thinking that it was just a bridge— just a connecting portion of stove and metal linking the plazas together. 

He had never though to actually go down the well-hidden steps in the alley between shops, or to wade through the ankle-deep waters that covered the stone path below. He had never thought to wander that way in his explorations, to slosh through the darkened old stone and past the boarded up doors and windows, down the rusted stairs where the gilded shine and polish had been stripped away by salvaging hands or weather or salt water ages before Nyx ever set foot in the city. Until the muffled sounds of the plaza and streets built above re-emerged as he found the flooded old covered bridge. He supposed he should have expected this sort of thing, a half submerged city beneath the rising waters and sinking support beams. He supposed he should have expected the idea the that the newer structures were built on the rooftops of the old— the crushing, pressing weight drowning the old stones further. 

He should have expected to see Noct there, in the hollow of the old building the bridge connected to. Where the floors had crumbled away centuries ago already, and the depths of the temple waters rose. Where there was nothing but darkness and water despite the height of the sun. 

“Does any of this exist on a map?” Nyx asked once he had settled beneath a curtain of blue flowers strung in long lines from the stone and railings above. Once he had pulled his feet up out of the water and pretended that he hoped to get dry at some point. “Because an actual map of the city would be nice.”

“Probably,” Noct responded, already reaching for the takeaway tray of food Nyx had brought down with him. “What did you bring?”

“You’re not very good at stalking me if you don’t know,” but Nyx offered the little mix of meats and vegetables to the creature first, letting Noct select the first morsel from the mess of sauces and steam. He smiled even as Noct dropped the hot meat and blew on his hand— licking the sauces off before trying again now that he was prepared; “It’s supposed to be something from my hometown, but I don’t think the cook has ever actually been to Galahd.”

“Why don’t you make it, then?”

There was a crowd growing on the plaza above, Nyx could hear it. Today there would be arrivals and speeches and the pomp and ceremony of visiting dignitaries and Imperial leaders. Today the streets would be flooded with the tourists coming to see the Oracle, and the bay and locks would be choked with the flow of boats. In a few hours, Nyx knew that the crowds would disperse from the temple steps and he would be bust at Maagho all night trying to jeep up with the rumours and smiles and flow of drinks and foods. They had been preparing for these few days for a week or so, and Nyx was almost dreading the chaos. 

For now, in the shade of garlands of sylleblossoms— their soft fragrance almost overshadowed by the smells of fish and water and the restaurants above— he could enjoy the peace of a shared meal and a curious prince. “I suppose I could. Maybe. I’m not exactly Iggy when it comes to cooking, you know.”

“You could ask him?”

“Of, little prince, I could just buy bad imitations and go home to enjoy the real thing one day.”

“You’d leave?”

“I’m not here forever, Noctis.”

“But Wesky—”

“Recruited me, sure,” Nyx had missed the forests of his home. Missed being dry; “but it’s a contract. It’s not permanent.”

He wondered what the rivers would be like, back home, if Noct and his companions lived there. If they would be too small compared to the space here. He wondered if they were too shallow, too bright. If he would suggest to Libertus that they should move to one of the coastal towns instead— closer to the Nif controls, sure, but also closer to open waters. He wondered if Noctis would ever leave the safe waters of Altissia, and the crystal he guarded. 

As Noct frowned at the idea, settled on the shallow waters of the flooded bridge, Nyx wondered if Noct would miss him if he left.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m from an island, you know. You could come.”

“I can’t.”

“The Crystal?”

“My father. He wants me here, so I’m staying here,” another stolen morsel of meat and Nyx focused his attentions on the mix of vegetables instead. 

“You could still come visit, I’m sure.” 

Above them, there was a rise in the excitement. A wave of cheers and applause as someone stepped out to greet those gathered. Today there would be greetings and speeches and short ceremonies meant to draw in the crowds. Tomorrow the Oracle would set about her duties to the people, and say her words and gift her offerings to the Hydraean. Tomorrow, the city would be crowded and loud, and Nyx wondered how Noct and his kind stayed hidden so well in the chaos of it. 

According to both Ignis and Weskham, Noct’s father lived in the ruins of old Lucis, in the submerged rubble of Insomnia. A territory crossed countless times by ferries and vessels looking for decent fishing ground. A section of bay and gulf that was under constant attention from the Empire, and hunters, and Nyx had understood to be empty of most forms of life— that the magic that had brought Solheim to dust had drowned the old Lucians as well. But the creatures had remained hidden, if they were there at all. The depths of explored ocean revealing nothing but statues to forgotten goddesses of death and the crushing pressures of open water. 

“And I’m sure I’ll be back to visit, too,” Nyx offered, not liking the way the prince frowned at the thought of him leaving. “It’s not for a while, anyway, Noct.”

“You’re just homesick.”

“Yeah.”

Flowers dropped from the plaza into the temple waters. Some were the vibrant blues of the Tenebrae flower, others more simple, common. A handful of wildflowers tied in the Niflheim colours floated past and Noct flicked at them to hurry them along on the waves. 

“I’d still prefer you didn’t leave,” Noct said, barely looking over as the still surface in the old building broke with Gladio’s arrival. “I lie you here.”

“That’s because I feed you.”

“One of the reasons,” Nyx didn’t miss the way Gladio settled back into the shadows to watch them, or the irritated flick of his deep red tail as Noct pushed himself up to be nose-to-nose with Nyx where he sat. Nyx may have missed the huff and glare and the threat the other mer presented after that. Noct had lifted himself up enough for a quick peck to his lips. “There are others.”


	7. Chapter 7

He had walked this stretch of coast for years at dawn. At dusk. Throughout the day. He knew most of the formations and the tides, and all the little nooks and crannies in the crags and stone cliffs when the tide went out. He knew where the tidal pools were and where the strip of rocky beach would be swallowed again when the tides flowed back in with their deadly, deceptive currents. He knew where it was safe to climb, and where the sharp, weather-slick edges of stone would cut deep scars into his hands. He knew where the smart tourists would stay, and the stupid ones would venture without the right sort of supplies— like ropes and food and flares and radios. 

Nyx had rescued enough of the idiots to know the best times to start his seaside wanderings. 

He had picked up hunts here and there, when the season was slow for the bar. When even the locals and regulars ventured further than normal for work. When staying put back home was starting to eat away at his nerves and he needed to just follow the river out towards the coast. 

The little hometown he came from wasn’t set too far inland— not too deep into the wilds of the canyons. Not too far away from the easy life and money that came from the tourists and ferries and the strange people still insisting in furtive whispers that they were Lucian. Nyx didn’t care about the people the ocean brought in, he cared about the people it took away. He remembered the ocean more than he remembered the forests. 

He remembered a childhood spent on the cliffs with his dad. He remembered teaching his little sister to catch the footholds, and bandaging up where the razor edges of the rocks cut at her small hands when she ventured too far. He remembered watching, with Crowe and Libertus, the storms roll across the waves and the thick columns of death dark clouds spawn grey spouts of twisting water and winds— he remembered Crowe reaching out her hands to the dark waters like she was beckoning them closer while Libertus scoffed at her attempts at “magic”. He remembered laying in the grass with his friends at high tide, lines cast as far as they could out to the waves while they talked about all the old stories the legions of fishermen and hunters spread along the coast with every new voyage; and scrambling over rocks at low tide to fill baskets for his mother. 

He remembered watching the red glow of Niflheim transports emerge through clouds and cut through waves as they arrived. And the day he was pulled further into the forests by his family. 

And the day his dad didn’t come back from his trips out to the water’s edge and rocky shores. 

For years he had dreams of the cold grey waters that once seemed to move under Crowe’s hands as they laughed and bled on jagged stone cliffs. He dreamed of getting caught in currents and corals and wrapped in weeds as he was dragged below dark waters when clouds gathered and flashed above him. 

He believed his mother when she told him that his father had slipped beneath the white capped waves, and made his promises to stay close to the shore if he ever felt the need dig out the old boat they had dragged into their forested haven. He believed her when she said that the Empire had something to do with the the rough waves that tipped him over into the water— the wake from their transports, he remembered being told— and that Libertus’ father survived because he was the stronger swimmer. He believed her when she said that the old bone knife he had once expected to inherit, and the ancient wooden lures he had learnt to fish with, had been lost with him. 

For years he had ignored the little bundle wrapped up in some strange leather pouch and tucked out of reach of prying, childish, rebellious hands. 

He remembered taking the strange little pouch from Selena one birthday as she pushed him out the front door and told him to take the week off from work. And not examining the thing until he was three drinks into the night with Libertus and Crowe at a haven they used to know. 

“These were dad’s…” was all he could say when his hands finally untied the little bundle Selena had forced on his as an impromptu gift. 

It was with all the rage of an abandoned, betrayed son that he threw the whole parcel into the waves below. 

His mother said that it was to protect him. His sister said it had to do with a history no one talked about. Some wildness that still ran in their veins. Some magic that still clawed through their blood like sea salt. 

Libertus agreed to take the ferries to the mainland with him— to cross the gulf of Old Lucis and spend a few years exploring what was left of the world he had never thought about beyond that jagged, grey shoreline. 

Nyx found, once he had his feet on the ground for a while— once he had explored the expanses of Leide and Cleigne, and the wet dip in the world that was Duscae— that he still preferred the wild oceans to the waves of grass and farms and winding stretches of road. 

Most of the hunts handed out by the tipsters at rest stops and outposts were to curtail the sense of “habitat destruction” among the locals. There were never any real details about it, Nyx found, when he took the jobs— there was just the utterances and grumblings among the local farms and fishermen and ranchers that the beasts were getting more aggressive, more used to the encroach of humans into their territory. Less fearful of the creatures that were, essentially, helpless and a “little bit squishy” (according to Libertus’ fine observations). Nyx assumed that the beasts were getting driven further out of the real wilds and closer to the managed farms by the ever-expanding press of Niflheim technology. Compared to the insistent and constant weave of roads and tunnels to make travel more convenient for large transports of troops and ‘peacekeepers’, a few hooves trampling the vegetable garden seemed like a small concern. 

Nyx preferred to stick close to the coast line, anyway. It was quieter. 

The coastal groupings of various ‘devils’ were far more appealing as targets to him. They may not have paid as much, or come with the same frequency as the hunts further inland, but there was more of a threat to actual humans out by the costs. Nyx had learnt— as Libertus once put it— humans made an easy snack. 

“It’s the fifth one in the last month,” his friend said from the passenger seat as Nyx finished filling the tank of his truck. Libertus had picked up the details from the diner before getting settled in again, food in closed paper boxes balanced precariously on the dash. “Looks like the fishermen go missing from the spots along the coast.”

“So, seadevils, then.”

“Seems like.”

“But?”

“But there’s another hunt going on for the same thing, but in open water.”

“These things don’t live in open water, though.”

“Right.”

“Libs… Which one did you sign us up for?”

“You like a mystery, Nyx.”

“Libs—”

“Come on, Nyx,” the paper in Libertus’ hands was already marked up with place names and details of the hunt; “you said you wanted a challenge. And the last time there were attacks on open water, it was back home. Could be the same thing.”

“Or it could be nothing, and we’re going to be losing money,” Nyx climbed into the driver’s seat, moving the boxed up food to his friend’s lap. “You’re the one who signed up, not me. Next outpost, I’m taking a new job.”

The paper was folded and tucked away, traded out for the map as Libertus scoffed and searched for their location on the curl of coastal roads which skirted the edges of Old Lucis. It was a new stretch of road for them, having gone westward from their first landing in Galdin Quay rather than follow the crowd north into Leide proper. The wetlands of Duscae and the coasts of Cleigne had been kinder to them than the desert that stretched ahead now, but the promise of the open sea could already be spotted ahead— the small village that was Hammerhead being the last point between the dustbowl of Leide and the coast of Old Lucis. Far ahead, a blur along the horizon, Nyx could see the familiar stretch of blue sea as they worked their way across the dust and closer to the ruined coast.

As far as Nyx could see from the map, they could follow the coastal roads up to the passes around the dip of the gulf and cross into Cavaugh for better prospects. Or turn around at the old border and head back. Regardless of their decision, they would need to head towards the distant haven that rested at the cliffs for the night. 

The outposts along the northern edge of the gulf offered a direct ferry back to Galahd, and Libertus had been at him for weeks to finally turn this way. Nyx could admit that he had started to miss the islands, and the grey waters of a far less forgiving piece of ocean. 

Libertus made a mark on the map and refolded it to the right section of road. “There’s a parking spot up ahead. The haven should be right there. Think we’ll see any of the old ruins?”

“Since when were you interested in playing tourist?” It wasn’t the ruins that Nyx had expected to see, this close to the ocean. Everyone had heard about them— the ancient fortifications of a once-great city that just crumbled into the ocean after the destruction of some lost war or equally ancient magic. Like Solheim was enveloped in darkness from their own misuse of magic, Lucis had been submerged. Everyone knew the story and the ruins and the waterlogged debris that had once been dredged up here and there in tiny increments to be settled like trophies in Niflheim museums and re-purposed as warnings for those who railed against the spreading technology.

Every child in Galahd grew up with the stories of Old Lucis and its shining city crumbling away into the water. Some places blamed the Astral’s wrath, others whispered that it was an ancient sabotage with Niflheim that caused the destruction. Nyx only remembered seeing the pictures of the huge structures and buildings and towers when there was still an interest in exploring the ruins; when he was a child and tales of lost civilisations and kingdoms was the stuff of dreams. When Crowe would laugh and stretch out her arms to the waves and declare that she could feel the ancient lost magics dancing with her in the winds over the water.

At the haven, standing on the glowing runes in the setting sun, Nyx could see the shapes in the clear water. In the right light, the little static peaks looked like the weather- and water-worn edges of towers he used to dream about. The stone walls that followed the coastline and rocky hills of the Leide region dipped into the waters below— sagging as they crumbled under years of neglect and exposure to the salt air. Libertus stood at the edge with him, searching the shore for the little piers and sites where fishermen settled for their long trips out to the water at odd times.

“Ever think something like that could happen back home?” 

“What? Sinking into the ocean?”

“Yeah,” Libertus stepped away from the edge of the haven and the dizzying slope below. “I mean, it’s not impossible for islands, right?”

“Pretty sure it is. At least without warning.”

“Think they had a warning?” Libertus indicated the nearest section of the old wall— the beaten, cracked stone hanging over the sheer ledge. “Because that looks pretty sudden.”

These were unfamiliar cliffs— red and rounded, rubbled and broken, with the dessert dust whipping over the edge in gusts and the stretch of low-tide stone shores reminding Nyx more of bloodied fields than sandy beaches— but Nyx still liked them. He could already plot the way down, and spot which stones would cut open hands and which would crack under new weight. He could plot the course he could take as he once had as a child, and predict which drop would break a leg or let him slide into dangerous waters. He could spot where the ruins ended and the natural stone started— where there should be caves cut by centuries of tide and ruin once the tide gave way again.

“Galahd’s not going to disappear, Libs,” Nyx said, stepping away from the rocky drop and back to the safety of the campfire. “Call Crowe if you don’t believe me.”

The familiar laugh, the big hand on his shoulder as they moved closer to the light and warmth, was enough to make Nyx grin. Libertus shoved a box of cold take out food into his hands; “Are you kidding? Who do you think would sink it? She always said she had magic.”

“Just don’t tell her you said that, or she’ll take it as a challenge.”

The next day, they found men along the coast— fishermen, Nifs, people who left little gifts of flowers from Cleigne and bottles of dust from Leide. “For the king,” was the common excuse for the gifts they heard— little supplications left written on scraps of paper and muttered against things dropped into the water, often scattered when the patrols of MTs came trudging along over the uneven stone shores. “For the goddess” was the other. 

There were lures, carved from pieces of wood, weighted with pebbles. There were bottles of black dust from the Rock deep inland, and chips of clear crystal from the Disc. There were knives and blades— rusted steels dug and thrown into flaking red stone— gifts from hunters set on superstitions before they crossed the Gulf of empty ocean. Toys and bunches of dying flowers wrapped like a bouquet. All scattered across the stretch of shore as they walked. 

“Think there’s anything to it?” Nyx asked his friend when they stopped on their way back to the truck. “Some Astral or…”

“Leviathan, probably,” Libertus offered with a shrug, kicking a still fresh bundle of sylleblossoms into the breaking waves as they passed. “Or they just believe there’s some magic in there. Like Crowe does.”

“Yeah, but she grew out of that,” the sun was still high when they reached the truck— still warm and bright, and blinding against the sea. “Look, why don’t you head home when we get to the ferry? I’ll kick around with the hunters in Cavaugh a bit and be back before Selena’s birthday.”

“You want me to go home without you? No way. I’m the only thing keeping you alive half the time.”

It was along another stretch of road, days later— hunts later— that Nyx met the strange man dressed too sharply for the road. There shared a haven on the outskirts of the Cavaugh crossings, watching the boats come and go in the sunset. 

“Come to Altissia,” the man offered, commandeering their campfire to cook them something better than cans of beans and soup. He had told them about the bar there, the gathering of life on impossible streets and the waves in twisting canals. He told them of layers of stone supported by pillars beneath the waters, and the walls of waterfalls that blinded unprepared tourists in the morning suns. He told them of the wonder of another island— not unlike the one they had come from— where stone building floated and the Empire had yet to corrupt. “I could have a job for you there. It’d pay better than hunting out here.”

He left them with a number and name before he boarded his own boat, stepping onto the deck early to inventory a shipment of ingredients. Libertus left on the next boat back home, promises from Nyx to follow in a week or two easing the way (threats of “I’ll send your sister after you” hanging between them). 

——

“So you stayed in Cavaugh?” Noctis asked, slick dark tail curling across the damp woods of the Maahgo’s platforms. The crowd of Oracle-bound tourists and regulars long since dispersed into the city maze, and the air cold around them despite the shelter of the bar. Nyx had draped his jacket over Noct’s shoulders at some point in his story— as the prince shifted further out of the water to stretch on the wood in a lazy sprawl. “You kept hunting?”

“A bit, little prince,” Nyx said, making a face as he stretched and got up to raid Ignis’ stores of coffee. “I travelled with a hunter called Drautos for a while, then went home.”

“And then here.”

“And then here.”

“Why?”

“Because my sister threatened to kill me if I passed up an opportunity to live in Altissia for a bit,” fresh water boiled in Ignis’ efficient little kettle until it clicked off, and Nyx breathed in the warmth offered by the hot drink in his hands. He could see Gladio’s form circling beneath the platform every so often, when he was bored of his little alcove and stash of books Iggy kept restocking. When he was bored of waiting for the prince and seemed intent on dragging the other creature back to whatever lair they kept. “So I came here.”

Noctis curled his tail further away from the water as Gladio checked on him; a gesture, Nyx was learning, was like the lazy, irritated curl of a cat’s tail. “Your sister should visit.”

“She might. Crowe might, too,” Nyx grinned and sat back down by the water’s edge, letting Noct steal his coffee for a sip. “Selena would love you. She’d think you’re some kind of fairytale creature.”

“Maybe I am.”

“You’re just a brat.”

“That too,” Noct offered a fanged grin and finally shrugged off the jacket Nyx had draped over him. “Gladio’s going to drag me home if I don’t give in now. Tell Iggy I went home hours ago.”

“Not lying for you, Noct.”

“Yes you are.”

“Fine,” Nyx gave the creature a little shove off the platform, and smiled at the wide-eyed surprise it earned him; “Go get some sleep. Or whatever it is you do.”

“Sleep,” Noct agreed, flicking water at Nyx even as Gladio approached. “Thanks for the story. You’ll have to show me Galahd one day.”

“Only if your guardians don’t kill me for keeping you out all night.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Is it always like this?”

“No, they change when you travel.”

There were always boats to rent and buy in Altissia. The gondolas passed through the canals as easily as cars in other cities, the small boats most people kept tethered to their front porches a perpetual barrier between walkway and water on most levels. The big ships and the fishing boats were out in the bay, below the cascades and returning through less grandiose means than the congested waterways the ferries took. Nyx was almost tempted to get a small boat of his own— reminded of the canoes and tiny things barely big enough for one person he had used in Galahd. Of his father’s sturdy little fishing boat, patched and re-patched and held afloat by sheer luck and Ulric pride. 

But he worried about the motor, and the blades, and Noct’s stubborn habits of trying to sneak up on him. 

Instead, on clear nights when Weskham didn’t need him at the bar, he rented a little boat and let himself drift out in the bay when it was quiet. There was a blanket and food, and it was never long in the quiet and the comforting dark of the water before he heard the familiar movement in the waves that announced Noct catching up to him. Most nights out on the water, he would cut the motor and let himself drift at the first flash of light off the scales of the prince’s tail; he would trail a hand in the water as Noct swam lazy circles around him, none of the conversation lost as the creature slipped beneath the waves here and there. 

This was the first time since picking up this little nightly habit that Noct had pulled himself into the boat. Usually he just stole food and hung off the side. Or threatened to tip everything into the water in retaliation for keeping the treats in the centre of the vessel. 

Nyx found that he liked the feel of the strange creature pressed against his side. At least once the cold of the water had stopped bothering him. He liked the weight of that strange tail draped over his legs, holding him in place as Noct snugged against him beneath his arm, eyes heavenward as they watched the stars and drifted. He liked the way the lights of the city spread out over the water, and the way Noct’s tail seemed to disappear in the dark. 

“That cluster,” Nyx said, using Noct’s own hand to point out a small cluster of seven stars barely visible in the light from the city; “is the Seven Steeds in Galahd.”

“Steeds?”

“Things you ride. Chocobos mostly.”

“Oh, I like those.”

“When have you ever seen a chocobo?”

“There’s a festival here. It takes over the whole city.”

“Chocobos in Altissia…” Nyx grinned as he tried to picture the birds wandering the plazas and alleys. “Might need to stay for that. Anyway, in Cavaugh and Old Lucis, those stars are the Seven Kings.”

“No, they aren’t. They’re the Seven Princes.” Noct grinned as he directed Nyx to another constellation— an other cluster of stars a bit higher in the sky, brighter. “Those are the Kings.”

“And how do you know that, fish?”

“Because Iggy used to stargaze with me, before he was human.”

“Before he was— What?”

Noct let his hand fall, pale against Nyx’s chest, tail shifting as he pulled himself up enough to actually look Nyx in the eye. “You didn’t know he was a mer?”

“No?” 

“Oh.” Noct hesitated before he resettled, paused in a familiar wariness as he searched Nyx’s features for a reaction other than surprise. Searching for something hostile and settling down again once he was satisfied it wasn’t there. He resumed his position against Nyx’s side, tail sill draped heavily across the human legs. “Well, he is. The Crystal changed him a couple of years ago. Dad agreed that he’d be a better guardian if he could move outside of the water.”

“Oh.” 

“You’re surprised.”

“Little bit.”

“Is it going to be a problem?”

Nyx settled back, arm around Noct as he considered the idea that Ignis wasn’t human— at least not really. But after hunting monsters and beasts and seeing all sorts of strange things (mostly with whatever Noct deemed a ‘gift’) on his doorstep, he supposed it was just another bit of weirdness in his life. “So you can be human too?”

“Maybe? I never really tried.”

“Why not?”

“Humans are slow, and weak, and sort of dumb. And—”

“Yes, thank you, fish. I get it.”

He could see the grin out of the corner of his eyes, and moved only enough to pull the blanket over them as more boats started to make their way out. The evening was warm, despite the cold breeze that seemed to flow off the cascading walls of water like the ocean itself, and the Oracle was being celebrated. There were cheers from the city carried out over the water— the music soft and foreign to Nyx, with none of the life he thought it should have. The other boats moved around them, cheerful greetings and lights dimmed as anchors dropped. 

Tomorrow would be the last day for the Oracle in the city— and Nyx knew that Noct was disappointed in the missed meeting. In the patrols of Nifs and MTs crawling through every alley and plaza, around every dark corner and quiet space. Noct had said he had barely managed more than a wave to his friend at a hotel window before he had to hide deep in the ruins below the city. 

But for now, there was a celebration, and the lights were dancing over the water around them. Despite the boats and the growing crowd, and the broadcasts echoed from too many radios tuned into the same event, Nyx was happy to feel like he was alone with Noct. The prince still pressed against him, tail hidden from curious views by the light blanket. 

He hadn’t watched fireworks in years.


	9. Chapter 9

Nyx had the habit of arriving at the bar early, of slipping through the streets with one eye on the canal for a certain shadow. As he climbed one layer of the stone city only to cross the bridges that would let him descend to the next, he watched the confetti clogged surface of the water to watch for familiar shapes moving just below the surface. The waves of passing boats, the struggles of the city staff to clear the mess of the festival for the Oracle, the gentle ripples of the tide, all obscured his watch. Most days, before the clutter and chaos of the Oracle’s visit had descended to the streets of his adopted home, he at least catch sight of Prompto’s smile following him. The sun glaring off the lens of the gifted camera his first clue that any of the strange creatures were awake. There had been hours before and after work that he had scrolled through the collection of pictures with Prompto, seeing portraits of himself slipped in between the reminders of the ruins the city was built on, and the hints of an age old war that still lingered in the bay. 

But today was different. There was no slip of dark movement beneath the surface as he walked. No little eddies in the water created with the right flick of a tail or a quick turn in direction— a dive deeper, a shift around a corner or back into the obscurity of the shadows.

It was odd to think that the canals were empty. That the waters beneath the city were missing their inhabitants. 

Nyx fought the dread at the idea that a quiet morning where he wasn’t accosted by Noctis and the other mer meant that there was a problem. 

It was almost a relief to see the familiar tails and faces and shadows at the Maahgo when he arrived. The vantage point of the stairway down to the hefty platform and its (currently closed) markets let him see where Noctis had disappeared to. Let him see who he was abandoned for. 

“No one told me we were part of the festivities,” Nyx said as he closed off the iron gates on his way down. He had only seen the likeness of the Oracle before— in shows and news programmes, reliefs on coins, photos. He supposed she looked much more normal in person. 

“Do forgive him, Lady Lunafreya,” Ignis threw him a familiar glare from across the bar; “I’m afraid Nyx has yet to learn any manners at all.”

“Not everyone can be as proper as you, Ignis;” the Lady Lunafreya reminded him of Selena. Lighter than her, a bit taller. But she offered an honest smile. “Noctis has been telling me about you.”

Nyx spotted the prince in the water, where he was just now pulling himself up to the low section of the deck with a grin. 

“Nothing good, I think.”

“No, nothing good.”

There was that smile again, and Nyx wondered at the girl. She had seemed so formal, so weighed down in all of the addresses and speeches and all the images of her he had come across. In the televised greetings and moments, she was always dressed in Imperial whites and reds, the light dresses of the wealthy and ethereal. Here, she looked like any other girl; any other tourist with her hair done up in the foreign braids and styles of an Imperial noblewoman, but in the heavy, casual clothes of the city. Of the civilians out to see Altissia. 

Here, beneath the stone arches and the buildings, with the waters lapping against the edge of the heavy platform anchored around the mysterious crystal, Nyx thought she looked more human than was actually normal. The same way he was starting to spot the same inhuman stiffness in Ignis, in the movements and habits. 

In the way she kept her hands folded before her, her back straight despite the casual nature of her air. In the constant roaming of her eyes over him, and the strange way his memories of his sister with her clever eyes and bright smiles and ease around others were pulled to forefront of his mind. In the strangeness of seeing that reflect in the woman before him— Selena’s coy smile on her lips, and Selena’s challenge in her eyes.

“Ulric—”

Ignis apparently knew that look.

“You’re not actually human, are you?”

“No,” Lunafreya said, before Ignis could sputter his apologies and start throwing things; “Not entirely. But close enough.”

“Right.” He did take a step back from her then, a glance to Noctis to see that he was fine. That Gladio was nearby, with the younger girl Nyx had come to know as Gladio’s sister. “Figures.”

“Neither are you, Sir Ulric?”

“What?”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Weskham interrupted as he arrived, his smart suit barely ruffled as he pulled a small boat to dock. He didn’t leave the boat itself, but he steadied it, a hand outstretched to the noblewoman. “My dear, I do believe it’s time to go back.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

Nyx almost wanted to step in as she crouched by Noctis, as they shared a smile, and she kissed his forehead. As a few soft words were passed between them before she straightened and took the invitation into the boat. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Ignis,” Lunafreya offered another smile now, and a gracious nod to Nyx before she settled with Weskham. 

It was a long moment until she was gone. Nyx had almost expected Noct to slip back into the water to follow. He almost wanted to follow. It was a long moment before Ignis threw a dishcloth at him and the world refocused. 

“Your manners are impeccable, Ulric.”

“Fuck you, Specs;” Nyx tossed the cloth back onto the bar, before he greeted Noct properly. He covered where Lunafreya had kissed with his own affection, and told himself that it wasn’t territorial. “You good, little star?”

He was vaguely aware of the others moving around them; of Iris’ giggle as she slipped into the water and pulled her brother down with her. As Prompto pulled himself up next to Noct, camera out. As Ignis approached, an ease to his shoulders that wasn’t there a moment ago. 

Noct offered his own smile, moved to catch Nyx’s lips. “Of course. I’m impressed you caught on so quick to her, though.”

“Yeah, well, I was a hunter.” It was easier to settle now, to run his hand across Noct’s back as the prince leaned over with Prompto to see the new photos. It was easier to be reminded of the little sanctuary the bar had become in the last year or so, after months of staking his claim. “What is the Oracle anyway?”

“Distantly related to Noctis,” Ignis offered, part of the whole group now gathering close to Noctis on instinct. To see the photos, to protect their prince. “I believe the magic in her blood stems from Old Lucis sirens— a bit different than the current specimens that resulted in Noctis.”

“And you.”

“Mm. Yes. And I suppose you have questions?”

“Not really,” not that were pressing. None that needed answers. Nyx knew Ignis, and Noctis, and all the others who had sort of slotted into his life in this city so easily. 

He almost smirked at the impressed arch of brow from Ignis. Almost. 

“Good, then it’s your turn to prepare the sides for service tonight.”


	10. Chapter 10

There weren’t many stray cats in Altissia. While there were plenty of nooks and crannies for hiding spots— from the shadows of the open plazas well above the hazards of the waters, to the open floating markets that offered an almost endless feast— most cats that he saw around the city seemed to be the sort of fluffy things that spent all day watching the world pass from the safety of apartment windows. Most had collars, even the ones milling about the docks and the welcome stations, or the ones that seemed intent on following him home. Those few strays that he did notice, who made it as low as his level, deserved a treat for their bravery. The ones without the collars, with a bit of scruff to them and the bit of wild in their eyes, he welcomed in with a scrap from dinner and a warm room for the night.

Nyx didn’t see many stray cats in the city, but there were one or two he was getting attached to and which appeared on his doorstep most mornings. He was almost tempted to name all the strays who came sniffing to his door after Noctis. His fabourite kitten, a little orange thing that reminded him of the cat Libertus kept at the bar back home, was the newest addition to the guests who often greeted him at the crack of dawn. 

“I’m surprised you like them,” he said one morning as he set a customary coffee down on the stone of his stoop for Noctis. The city was still done up for the Oracle, the strings and strains of flowers and garlands still draped from every available public surface and the noise of the upper levels more festive than normal as is filtered down on the breeze. Colourful banners pinned to bridges still cast their reflections on the waves, and the occasional bout of confetti from the plazas mingled with the petals already clinging to the stone edges of the canals. The excitement of the higher levels— those that were poised to see the Oracle and host the royal visitor— wafted down with the music, and seemed to bleed into the very air and water with each beat that pulsed through the city. The final day of her stay in the city promising to be the largest celebration.

And in the chill of the morning, he could still ignore the vibrant festival air. Focused instead on the way Noct teased the kitten with a flower discarded from the decorations, the coffee ignored for the moment. 

“Why would that be a surprise?”

“Cats eat fish.”

“So?”

“You’re a fish.” He had to his his amusement at the absolute indignity of the glare that earned him behind the mug warming his hands. 

“I’m not even responding to that,” Noct finally relinquished the blue flower to the kitten and pulled himself up to the steps for his coffee, tail stretched like a barrier between the dry stone steps and the cold depths of the canals. “Not at all.”

“Sure.”

“I eat fish too.”

“So you’re a cat-fish?”

“What?”

“You’re lazy enough to be a cat.” He expected that little splash— the quick movement of that long tail that barely flicked enough water towards him to dampen his jeans. But enough to send the kitten skittering to the safety of the door. Nyx expected the retaliation, not the wide-eye look of surprise as Noct reached for the kitten in apology.

It was almost cute the way the kitten had taken to Noct, and the way Noct had taken to the kitten. At least when he wasn’t completely soaked and dripping from just having surfaced. Nyx had started to think that he should keep the thing, if only for the amusement of seeing Noct fend off the little nips the kitten gave to his fingers when they had managed to insult each other. Back in the good graces of the little creature, Noct resettled on the stoop, finally taking the coffee. “Have you seen Luna again?”

“The Oracle? No,” Nyx had been avoiding those plazas and the temple and the swarm of new tourists who had pushed their way into the city. The Maagho had been seating and serving guests in droves of the tourists drawn in by the mystery and reputation of the bar, Nyx had insisted on a night off just to keep himself from going mad in the chaos. Just to process the strangeness that his life was quickly becoming. “Not yet, anyway. I think I’ll stick to a nice quiet day at home.”

“Rather than going swimming?”

“Rather than going swimming.”

“You’re no fun,” but Noctis was smiling, even as Nyx collected his mug and stepped inside; “I’ll forgive you over toast.”

“You do know that I can make more than just toast?”

“That doesn’t mean you’re any good at making anything else.”

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that.”

The door was propped open by the heavy parcel Nyx had yet to open, but carried the neat labelling of his mother’s writing on it. That he had shoved into position when he heard the familiar splashing outside of his window. Had forgotten about it in the strange chaos these past few days had been. But it afforded him a good view now. He could watch Noct from there, from his tiny kitchen with its chipped and peeling paint. He could see the kitten dancing back and forth with the new toy made of a cast off blue flower, and see the smile behind Noct’s favourite mug as he watched the small creature play. 

He could lean in the doorway and just watch as the coffee was forgotten again. As Noctis leaned forward across the stone to steal the flower by the stem, to trace a pattern for the kitten to chase with the petals ghosting across the cracks and chips left by years of poor maintenance. He could watch as both kitten and prince jumped at the sudden noise from the toaster, both turning to him as he laughed at the little jerks of surprise.


End file.
